


Lost Without You

by mrecookies



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Community: writerverse, Friendship, Gen, Gen Fic, Humor, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2012-04-25
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrecookies/pseuds/mrecookies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TFLN <i>(407): Ohhh,that's true. Babies are only fun when you're high. Otherwise, they're the worst kind of people.</i> Nate's at work, and baby Laurie can't stop screaming. Brad resorts to calling his beloved Ray-Ray for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Without You

"Ray, she won't shut up."

Ray's never heard the Iceman sound so desperate before. Oh sure, there were times in Iraq when Brad was all 'shut up Ray before I head over and run my KABAR along your stinking hick throat', but that was pissy irritated I've-got-sand-up-my-ass Brad. This is save-me-from-the-baby-invasion Brad. Ray wishes he has popcorn, because it's better than any Terminator shit playing on his television right now.

"Ray?"

"Yeah, Iceman, I'm here, homes. You tried burping her yet?" He takes another swallow from the bottle and leans against the counter. "Babies like getting burped. Lucy was such an angel when she was that little, all filled with gas and milk."

"I've tried burping her, Ray, but she _still_ won't shut up. Listen." There's a scuffling noise, and all of a sudden baby Laurie's screaming into the phone, and Ray chokes on his beer.

"Damn you, Colbert," he says, as the yelling fades. "I pity your sorry ass, because it sounds like you have a mini-Sixta on your hands."

"Fu- screw you, Person. What do I do?"

"I wish I could see your face right now, Brad. You check her diaper? When was her last feed? And when is Daddy going to get home from his mindbendingly boring-ass job?"

Brad wearily informs Ray that Laurie's diaper is clear, that she's still full from her last feed, and that the absence of Nate is probably the problem, because he's miles away at his desk poring over paperwork during his lunch break because he's _Nate_. "Ray, this is worse than the clusterf- than Iraq, I swear."

"Ohhh, that's true, for sure. Babies are only fun when you're high. Otherwise, they're the worst kind of people. Don't tell that to Sarah, or she'll cut my balls off with the kitchen knife. Stay frosty, my friend, for this too shall pass. Try singing to her. It worked for Lucy when Sarah had to take a late shift." Ray hopes that Brad won't hang up, because he really wants to hear the Iceman sing some fruity song like "Elmo's World" or the theme tune to Spongebob Squarepants.

He rubs his hand in glee - in fucking _glee_ \- when Brad leaves the phone on the coffee table or something and picks Laurie up, still screaming. Ray grabs his mobile and finds the voice recording application just as Brad starts singing Air Supply's "All Out Of Love" to a rapidly quieting Laurie. Ray is going to have _so_ much fun during their next platoon picnic.


End file.
